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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26158672">Baby Blues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceful_Storyteller/pseuds/Graceful_Storyteller'>Graceful_Storyteller</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Windscream Week [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Transformer Sparklings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:00:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26158672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceful_Storyteller/pseuds/Graceful_Storyteller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Finally regaining her composure, Windblade pinned her daughter with a deadpan expression she usually reserved for Starscream. “Megatron. The infamous warlord currently serving a life sentence on the Lost Light. The Cybertronian with a tank alt-mode. Who hates energon treats. That Megatron ate your favourite treats and didn't clean his hands before he went into my berthroom without permission to play with my polishes?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>There was a lengthy pause. “Yes.” </i>
</p>
<p>A collection of shorts regarding the domestic bliss of Starscream, Windblade and their sparklings. Includes 2 bonus shorts not posted on Tumblr!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bumblebee/Thundercracker (Transformers), Starscream/Windblade (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Windscream Week [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Windscream Week Works</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurobot/gifts">Aurobot</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Can be seen as a continuation of chapters 1 &amp; 4 of Beautiful Disaster or stand alone. Originally posted on Tumblr. Now in (sort of) chronological order.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>STUPID</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“My sparkling's stupid.”</p>
<p>Wheeljack and Bumblebee shared a <em>look</em>.</p>
<p>“Oh don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!” Starscream snarled. “Look at them! A month old and they still think their feet are the most fascinating thing on the planet! When I was that age I'd already been assigned a job.”</p>
<p>“Starscream,” Wheeljack said carefully. “These new sparklings, they're not like any bot that's come before them. We can't judge them by old developmental milestones. If the little bitlet is still discovering its frame maybe that's what it's supposed to be doing. The other sparklings created at the same time don't seem to be developing any faster than your own.”</p>
<p>“Wheeljack's right,” Bumblebee chimed in. “If anything we should be looking at human development to determine if the sparkling's on track instead of Cybertronian.”</p>
<p>“What!? Why?!”</p>
<p>“Well, it was an organic fertility god who altered our cyberbiology to make the sparklings possible. It stands to reason that their development would be more in line with an organic species than a mechanical one.”</p>
<p>“But why humans?!”</p>
<p>“Earth is the planet we have the best relationship with nowadays,” Bee replied with a shrug of his doorwings. “I can't imagine the Galactic Council will react well if we ask them at what rate their young develop. Humans, on the other hand, have a million different movies and datafiles on how their species develops. From what I've seen so far the sparklings develop at a similar rate to human infants.”</p>
<p>“So how long does it take a human to learn to talk?”</p>
<p>Bumblebee and Wheeljack shared another <em>look</em>.</p>
<p>“Proper language development begins at two.”</p>
<p>“Two what?”</p>
<p>“Two years.”</p>
<p>“Two years?!” Starscream paced the length of the room before turning back and demanding, “If it takes them that long to start talking, how long until they're old enough to live on their own?”</p>
<p>“In some cultures humans have to wait 21 years to be considered an adult and achieve full independence.”</p>
<p>Starscream's processor stalled as he tried to compute that information. Twenty-one years. Twenty-<em>one</em> <em>years</em>.</p>
<p>“What have I gotten myself into?” he whispered as he collapsed into a chair.</p>
<p>Bumblebee patted his arm consolingly. “It could be worse,” he assured.</p>
<p>“<em>How?!”</em></p>
<p>With a slightly evil smirk, Bumblebee replied, “Whirl has triplets.”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>STORY TIME</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“The terrified Autobots huddled together and counted their ammo. They were running low and they knew they were hopelessly outnumbered.”</p>
<p>Windblade paused beside the open door and looked in on the unexpected scene. Starscream, curled up in a chair, their sparkling resting quietly in his lap. The tiny thing's optics were wide with wonder as they stared up at their creator. There was a soft smile on Starscream's faceplate that Windblade couldn't remember ever seeing before. Crossing her arms, Windblade leaned inconspicuously against the door frame to watch the conclusion of the sweet scene.</p>
<p>“After an hour of mindless panicking one of them decided to do what all stupidly noble Autobots do in a time of crisis – sacrifice himself. He ran out into the open to draw Decepticon fire, hoping his comrades would be given an opportunity to escape. All he actually did was give away their hiding place. A spotter logged it and I led the charge, backed up by those idiots Skywarp and Thundercracker. We dropped our bombs, and if the explosion didn't kill them then it was the weight of all that rock collapsing on those dumb Autobots which finally did them in. We returned to base with over two dozen more kills to our names that day.”</p>
<p>It took a second for the words to register in Windblade's processor.</p>
<p>“Starscream!”</p>
<p>Frowning at the interruption, Starscream hissed a sharp, “What?”</p>
<p>“You can't tell the sparkling war stories! Especially not ones that end in Autobots getting crushed to death!”</p>
<p>“Why not?” he queried archly. “It's not like their language processor is developed enough to understand anything I just said.”</p>
<p>“Maybe not,” Windblade replied as she approached, scowling down at him. “But somehow I doubt you would have told a different story even if they did understand every word you said.”</p>
<p>A smile flickered at the corner of Starscream's lip-plates. “True.”</p>
<p>Windblade stopped by Starscream's wing. The sparkling gurgled happily at the sight of her, reaching out tiny hands imploringly. With obvious reluctance Starscream allowed her to take their sparkling. Windblade held them close, pressing a messy kiss to the warm faceplate. She received a laugh, a few uncoordinated pats to her helm, and then a pitiful whine. The sparkling began to squirm, trying to look back over their shoulder. Windblade turned them until they were able to see Starscream. With a delighted cry the tiny creature lunged for her creator. Windblade tightened her grip to prevent the sparkling from plummeting to the ground.</p>
<p>“Fickle thing,” Windblade grumbled good-naturedly as she handed their creation back to Starscream. “Just like you.”</p>
<p>Starscream smiled triumphantly as the sparkling curled contentedly against his frame. “You're just jealous they like me better.”</p>
<p>Windblade rolled her optics. “Of course dear.”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>PEEKABOO</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“Where's the baby? There they are!”</p>
<p>The sparkling giggled until Bumblebee placed his hands over his faceplate. A look of worried confusion immediately replaced the innocent joy.</p>
<p>“Where's the baby?” Bumblebee sing-songed before dramatically throwing his hands aside. “There they are!”</p>
<p>The sparkling screamed in delight and attempted desperately to grab the former Autobot.</p>
<p>“What <em>are</em> you doing?” Starscream asked condescendingly.</p>
<p>“We're playing a game,” Bumblebee explained as he allowed his finger to be captured. “I'm trying to teach them about object permanence.”</p>
<p>“You mean they're too stupid even to realise that things continue to exist even though they can't see them?”</p>
<p>Bumblebee frowned. “They're not stupid, just inexperienced. They'll learn in time.”</p>
<p>The sparkling shoved Bumblebee's finger down its intake until it started to choke.</p>
<p>Starscream grimaced. “Primus I hope so.”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>I WANT ONE</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“I want a sparkling.”</p>
<p>Starscream reared back, clutching Turbulence close to his chestplate. “Well you can't have mine,” he snarled.</p>
<p>“What?” Thundercracker said, optics going wide in shock. “No! No, that wasn't what I meant! I want my own sparkling! I was hoping you would be able to help.”</p>
<p>“Help?” Starscream parroted suspiciously. “Help in what way?”</p>
<p>“Well...”</p>
<p>Thundercracker didn't need to say the words. Starscream knew exactly how his former team-mate wanted to 'help' him get his own sparkling.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Please Starscream!” Thundercracker practically begged.</p>
<p>“No. Ask one of those losers on Earth to make a sparkling with you.”</p>
<p>“I did,” Thundercracker replied, pouting. “They all refused.”</p>
<p>“I wonder why,” Starscream muttered lowly.</p>
<p>“Come on 'Scre-Starscream!” Thundercracker pleaded. “I can't do this on my own. I need somebody else to create a sparkling. You've done it before, you know what I'd need to do to get sparked! After that I could leave and you'd never have to see me again. Or I could get a hab-suite in your building and we could raise it together – whichever you want!”</p>
<p>“My answer is still no. I am not sharing sparks with you.”</p>
<p>Thundercracker's wings drooped despondently. They raised a little when he asked, “Do you think Windblade-”</p>
<p>“Ask her if she'll make a sparkling with you and I will rip off your wings and impale your spark with them.”</p>
<p>Turbulence gave a concerned little beep at the look of utter misery on Thundercracker's faceplate.</p>
<p>“I'll make a sparkling with you.”</p>
<p>Both jets spun round to stare at the bot they hadn't even heard approach.</p>
<p>“Bumblebee?”</p>
<p>Said Cybertronian grinned. “After spending so much time with Turbulence I've also been weighing up my options, trying to work out who might be willing to share sparks and raise a sparkling with me. I think you'd be a great choice Thundercracker. You'd have to move permanently to Cybertron but-”</p>
<p>“Yes!” Thundercracker cried, rushing forward to hold both of Bee's hands. “Give me a week and I'll be here! Oh, you won't regret this Bumblebee. We are going to be the best, most loving creators ever! And we are going to create the most amazing sparkling ever!”</p>
<p>“I doubt that,” Starscream drawled and Turbulence tittered her agreement.</p>
<p>Thundercracker and Bumblebee ignored them.</p>
<p>“I'm so excited, are you excited Bee?”</p>
<p>“Yes Thundercracker,” Bumblebee replied, still smiling. “I most definitely am.”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>CONTRACEPTION</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“Are you sure you want to do this?” Windblade asked softly. “You remember what happened the last time we shared sparks?”</p>
<p>“How could I forget?” Starscream grumbled. “The little cog likes to start screaming the <em>second </em>you stop paying attention to her.”</p>
<p>“Exactly. Are you willing to take the risk that you <em>won't </em>be sparked again?”</p>
<p>“Don't worry Windblade; I have a plan.” With his trademark smirk he held up a bizarre looking device. “I had Wheeljack make this. He nearly had spark failure when I told him he needed to make a contraceptive, but he pulled himself together for long enough to come up with this beauty.”</p>
<p>Windblade stared suspiciously at the device. “How does he know it works? Has he tested it?”</p>
<p>“He ran simulations but couldn't find any live test subjects.”</p>
<p>Optics wide with alarm Windblade demanded, “And you're okay with that?”</p>
<p>Looking incredibly awkward, Starscream refused to meet her gaze as he said, “Wheeljack is good at what he does. I trust him.”</p>
<p>The fight immediately drained out of Windblade. Smiling gently, she placed her hand on Starscream's arm. “If you trust Wheeljack's invention then so do I.” Her smile acquired heat as she tugged him towards the berth. “Come on. Let's make the most of the 'little cog' spending the night with Bumblebee.”</p>
<p>Grinning, Starscream stalked after her.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“<em>Wheeljack.”</em></p>
<p>Dragged out of his thoughts by the surprise comm, Wheeljack replied, “Hey Windblade, what can I do for you?”</p>
<p>“<em>Leave the city for a few weeks. I'd hate to have to arrest Starscream for your murder.”</em></p>
<p>“My... What did I-”</p>
<p>“<em>We tried out your contraceptive device. It didn't work. Starscream's sparked again.”</em></p>
<p>For a moment Wheeljack was stunned into silence. “I did tell him he'd be better going to a medic,” he grumbled resentfully.</p>
<p>“<em>All the same, I think you should make yourself scarce. He's not exactly thinking clearly right now.” </em></p>
<p>Ex-venting heavily, Wheeljack murmured, “Thanks for the warning Windblade.”</p>
<p>“<em>You're welcome.” </em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>HIGHROAD</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“They're adorable Bee,” Windblade cooed as she bounced the tiny ball of armour.</p>
<p>Bumblebee smiled softly from his seat beside her as his sparkling beeped cheerfully, tiny hands holding tight to her wrists. “I know. Sometimes Thundercracker and I just lie on our berth watching them. It isn't until someone calls that we realise we've been there a whole hour.”</p>
<p>“I wish I'd been able to do that with Turbulence,” Windblade said wistfully.</p>
<p>“You had a planet to run and a sparkling that was easily bored. Somehow I don't think it would have worked out quite as well as you imagine.”</p>
<p>“True,” Windblade conceded. “Maybe the next one will be less of a troublesome little monster.”</p>
<p>“I don't know,” Bumblebee mused with a mischievous smile. “They will still be part Starscream. You really think he can create a well-behaved sparkling?”</p>
<p>“Primus I hope so. I love Turbulence but I see more and more of Starscream in her every day. Having one menace to society in the family is more than enough.”</p>
<p>Bumblebee laughed.</p>
<p>“Anyway, enough about my family,” Windblade decided, fighting her own smile. “Are you planning on naming this little one or waiting until they're old enough to name themselves?”</p>
<p>“We've been discussing names,” admitted Bumblebee. “But Thundercracker doesn't want to make anything official until we have a better idea of what their alt-mode is going to be. A lot of his favourite names are more appropriate for a Seeker than a land vehicle.”</p>
<p>Windblade could understand the hesitance. The sparkling was bulky, built more like a car than a jet. However, poking out of their back were two thin pieces of metal which looked very much like they might develop into wings. “Turbulence had similar protrusions when she was this age,” Windblade mused as she caressed a tiny wing. The sparkling giggled and squirmed.</p>
<p>“I remember,” Bumblebee said with a wistful smile. “So does Thundercracker. I know he will be happy with whatever alt-mode the little one develops, but I can see part of him really wants them to be a Seeker so they can go flying together.”</p>
<p>“Maybe they're going to be a triple-changer. Or a flying car. I've met someone with that alt-mode before. What was her name?” After a few seconds Windblade snapped her fingers. “Road Rage – that was her name.”</p>
<p>The sparkling jumped at the sudden noise. They then immediately decided that Windblade's fingers needed to go in their mouth for some much needed chewing. More like gumming as their denta had yet to develop.</p>
<p>“I'd like it if they were a flying car,” Bumblebee decided. He ran a finger over the tiny wing, causing the sparkling to release Windblade's fingers as it again began to giggle. “Then they'd be a proper blend of Thundercracker and I.”</p>
<p>“That would be nice,” Windblade agreed. She gave Bumblebee a sly look. “The two of you seem to be getting on very well. Much better than two people who only came together because they wanted a sparkling.”</p>
<p>Bumblebee ducked his helm, looking a little sheepish. “I've liked him for awhile, and I think maybe the same was true for him. We use to send each other messages and made a point to meet whenever he came to Cybertron. I didn't think we could be more than friends though, seeing as he wanted to remain on Earth and I didn't trust Starscream not to end up back in prison if I wasn't there to watch him. Now that we have a sparkling however...”</p>
<p>“You have the perfect excuse to spend as much time in his berth as possible.”</p>
<p>Bumblebee laughed. “I only get as much time as this one allows me.” He tapped the sparkling's nose, prompting a series of confused beeps.</p>
<p>“Do you wake your creators in the middle of the night cycle for fuelling?” Windblade cooed. “I bet you do. I bet you scream that you're hungry until one of them comes to feed you.”</p>
<p>“Thundercracker usually volunteers for night duty,” Bumblebee confirmed. “He doesn't even kick me awake so that I can share his pain.”</p>
<p>“Don't rub it it,” Windblade grumbled. “I miss Starscream being an insomniac. It would have made life much more simple.”</p>
<p>“You didn't Conjunx Starscream for an easy life.”</p>
<p>“I know. Why did I Conjunx him again?”</p>
<p>Bumblebee tried not to laugh as he motioned for the sparkling to be returned. The tiny creature's crimson optics were beginning to flicker, it's helm drooping under its own weight. “Nap time.”</p>
<p>Windblade pressed a kiss to the tiny helm before handing back the sparkling. “Recharge well little one.” She stood up, reflexively checking her chrono. “I should get back to work. Thank you for having me over Bumblebee; we should do this again soon.”</p>
<p>“You know you're welcome anytime Windblade.”</p>
<p>Windblade grinned. “Even when you and Thundercracker are in berth together?”</p>
<p>“Only if you bring Starscream with you,” Bumblebee grinned back.</p>
<p>“Then who would watch the sparklings?”</p>
<p>“Skywarp?”</p>
<p>Windblade didn't bother to dignify that with a reply.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>FEEDING TROUBLES</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>Windblade had done her research when she'd realised Starscream was sparked. Or, more accurately, she'd ordered one of her underlings to research organic reproduction and give her their conclusions. One of those conclusions was that the majority of species investigated were designed to feed their newborns from their own bodily fluids. Windblade had initially recoiled at the idea. She was aware sharing energon from your own lines with your Conjunx or Amica was an acceptable practice in some cultures, but that was mostly because resources were scarce and the fuel in their lines was the only commodity they had to offer each other. She personally thought it was an unsanitary practice and had desperately hoped that Starscream's frame would not further adapt to support such a change. She was relieved when the medics reported no physical changes which indicated the sparkling should be fuelled from their creator's frame. That did, however, lead to a different problem: how was one supposed to fuel a tiny, squirming creature you were unable to reason with?</p>
<p>The sparkling made a face and turned away from the cube of energon Windblade was trying to feed them. Purple optics crinkled and a tired whimper escaped their vocaliser. It was the sort of whimper which in Turbulence usually proceeded a scream.</p>
<p>Immediately Windblade started to bounce the sparkling in her arms, cooing soothing nonsense until the whimpering stopped. Smiling, she tried again to get the little one to fuel – but as soon as the cube came close to their intake the sparkling's vocaliser started to click and they turned their miserable faceplate away.</p>
<p>Windblade released a frustrated ex-vent. “Come on Sweetspark. You need to drink your energon so you can grow big and strong like Starscream.” The sparkling cautiously returned their gaze to her faceplate. Smiling fondly, she shifted the sparkling's position and pressed a kiss to their helm. “That's right. Big and strong and able to do this on your own. Let's try this one more time.”</p>
<p>Hoping that the new position might lead to greater success, Windblade brought the cube back into the equation. The sparkling squealed and tried to knock the cube from her hand.</p>
<p>“You'll never get them fuelled that way.”</p>
<p>Starscream, still looking a little dazed after the stasis nap he'd taken with Turbulence, extracted the sparkling from Windblade's arms and placed them in the small chair Wheeljack claimed to have modelled after a human baby's car seat. The sparkling quieted instantly. Windblade watched, fascinated, as Starscream plucked the cube from her hands and held it out to the sparkling. Two barely coordinated hands grabbed the sides and titled the cube forward. There was no arguing that Starscream was controlling the flow of energon, but if the little creature tried to move the cube he responded to their directions so it very much looked as if they were fuelling themselves.</p>
<p>“Turbulence won't fuel unless you hold her. This one won't fuel unless they're in their chair and think they're fuelling themselves.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Windblade murmured.</p>
<p>She watched Starscream fuel their sparkling as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was surprisingly attractive.</p>
<p>As if telepathically picking up on her thoughts, Starscream's wings twitched and he glanced slyly towards her. His processor was clearly fully online and already plotting. “And do you like what you see?”</p>
<p>Windblade paused. “As a matter of fact I do.”</p>
<p>A full-blown smirk enveloped Starscream's faceplate. “Then you should show your appreciation.”</p>
<p>His wings flexed in blatant invitation. Wearing her own smirk Windblade slipped behind him and placed her hands flat against those gorgeously broad wings. She started slow, rubbing teasing circles into the metal before allowing her fingers to drift towards sensitive wing joints. Starscream groaned and Windblade peeked over his shoulder vent to ensure he was not neglecting his duties. The cube was empty and the sparkling was watching their carrier with wide, curious optics.</p>
<p>“Star!” came a shout from another room, making both Windblade and Starscream flinch. “Star! Star! Starrrrrrr. Star!”</p>
<p>“Ugh, she's online,” Starscream groused. He glared at the sparkling in front of him. “Don't ever learn to talk.”</p>
<p>The sparkling beeped innocently.</p>
<p>Windblade pressed a kiss to his backstrut. “Want me to see to Turbulence?”</p>
<p>“No, I've got it.” He ex-vented heavily. “She'll sulk if I don't go to her and I'm not in the mood to fight with the little cog right now.” He slipped out of her hold and marched off to carry out his duties as chief caretaker.</p>
<p>Windblade watched him go with a smile. “He's cute when he's recharge-deprived.”</p>
<p>The sparkling chimed its agreement.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>MEGATRON DID IT</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“<em>Turbulence!</em>”</p>
<p>At the sound of Windblade's furious voice said sparkling froze guiltily in place. Sitting with Moonshot at the family table, Starscream watched with well concealed amusement as his daughter hastily pulled herself together and adopted the most innocent expression in her arsenal just as Windblade stormed into the living room.</p>
<p>“Yes Creator?”</p>
<p>Sliding instinctively into a power stance (legs spread, hands on hips) Windblade stared accusingly down at her eldest sparkling. “Have you been in my berthroom Turbulence?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Oh? Then why are my polishes covered in the remains of energon treats? And before you blame Moonshot, I know that he hasn't left Starscream's sight since the two of you returned from the Education Centre.”</p>
<p>Turbulence closed her jaw with a soft click. She looked to the rest of her family for help. Moonshot, still busy with his homework, turned back to his datapad and pretended he hadn't been listening to the conversation. Starscream, however, met her gaze head-on. He raised an optic ridge in a silent challenge.</p>
<p>Determination flashed across his daughter's faceplate before she turned back to Windblade and said with the utmost conviction, “Megatron did it.”</p>
<p>“...What?”</p>
<p>Windblade wasn't the only one staring at Turbulence with shocked confusion. Starscream seriously hoped the paparazzi didn't have cameras trained on their apartment right now; he couldn't imagine his expression was all that flattering.</p>
<p>Metaphorically digging in her heels, Turbulence replied, “Megatron was the one playing with your polishes.”</p>
<p>Finally regaining her composure, Windblade pinned her daughter with a deadpan expression she usually reserved for Starscream. “Megatron. The infamous warlord currently serving a life sentence on the Lost Light. The Cybertronian with a tank alt-mode. Who hates energon treats. That Megatron ate your favourite treats and didn't clean his hands before he went into my berthroom without permission to play with my polishes?”</p>
<p>There was a lengthy pause. “Yes.”</p>
<p>Turbulence's expression was one of 'that's my story and I'm sticking with it'.</p>
<p>Unable to resist any longer, Starscream started to laugh. Windblade's lost expression quickly morphed into one of irritation as she turned to glare at him. “You think this is funny!?”</p>
<p>“I think it's hilarious.”</p>
<p>An evil smirk made its way across Windblade's faceplate. “Let's see if that changes when you see the state of your own polishes.”</p>
<p>Starscream stopped laughing immediately.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>CHILD OF MINE</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>There were days when Starscream doubted that Moonshot was his sparkling. He was such a quiet, placid thing that if Starscream hadn't watched him fall from his open chestplates he'd honestly suspect that he belonged to another bot.</p>
<p>Turbulence, on the other hand, was undoubtedly his. It wasn't just that her first (completely unprompted, honestly Windblade!) words were, “You're ugly Prowl,” or that she absolutely could not handle criticism now that she was old enough to understand it. The evidence of her parentage was clear in the look of pure smugness she sent her younger brother when she built a taller tower, or drew a better picture, or when she become emotional and her vocaliser achieved a truly painful pitch.</p>
<p>Then there was her new and completely bizarre habit of blaming everything on Megatron. Starscream wasn't entirely sure where she'd picked that up, seeing as he did his utmost best not to mention the warlord around his sparklings. Sure, occasionally something would wind him up enough that he'd curse that rusted aft under his breath, but it had been a long time since he flew into a full blown rant about his former tormentor. He hadn't wanted to poison his little ones with thoughts of Megatron, or in any way encourage them to ask questions about him.</p>
<p>Moonshot liked asking questions. He was always reading, always searching for knowledge. Starscream supposed that insatiable curiosity was a trait they shared – although Moonshot seemed to value knowledge for knowledge's sake, whereas Starscream valued the <em>leverage </em>knowledge brought.</p>
<p>“Starscream? Can you check the sparklings are recharging?”</p>
<p>Starscream was about to ask why Windblade couldn't check on the sparklings herself, but then he noticed the way she was clutching her datapad. If the next words out of his intake weren't “Yes Windblade” that datapad would be heading straight for his helm. As much as he did love to antagonise her, even he knew when doing so was a terrible, terrible idea. Windblade could be <em>mean</em> when she was stressed and she'd known him long enough to be able to strike every one of his insecurities with deadly accuracy.</p>
<p>Grumbling more for show than anything, Starscream eased himself out of his comfortable slouch and made his way to the room at the back of their hab-suite. Both sparklings had clearly gotten out of their berths after story time. Turbulence had fallen asleep curled around a handheld game and Moonshot had a datapad resting against his chestplate. Both were deep in recharge.</p>
<p>Smiling fondly, Starscream gently peeled the game away from where it had become stuck to Turbulence's faceplate. He switched off the screen and stowed it away in its proper place. He moved to Moonshot's berth and eased his frame down until he was flat on his back. Recharging sitting up was murder on the neck-cables. Starscream had learnt that the hard way.</p>
<p>Absently, Starscream picked up Moonshot's datapad. He scanned the contents to determine where on his son's painstakingly organised shelves this one belonged. What he saw made him pause.</p>
<p>It was a list. A list of people who had angered or in some way slighted Moonshot. It was a <em>revenge list</em>.</p>
<p>Slowly, Starscream turned off the datapad and carefully tucked it against Moonshot's frame, under his hand. Then he stood back and stared down at his son. He honestly didn't think he'd been more proud of the little cog. Only a sparkling and he'd already worked out that a prolonged and calculated demise of one's enemies was far more rewarding than striking out in anger. Finally, Starscream had found something definitive he and his son had in common – they both knew how to not only hold a grudge but to nurse it.</p>
<p>Overcome with emotion, Starscream leaned back down and pressed a kiss to Moonshot's helm. As always, the deep recharger did not stir in the slightest.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>STORY TIME 2</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“Creator, tell us a story!” Turbulence practically begged as she bounced up and down on her berth.</p>
<p>Windblade gave her a <em>look</em> and the sparkling immediately lay down. Smiling to herself, Windblade placed Moonshot in his own berth before moving to sit beside her eldest. “Alright. What sort of story did you have in mind?”</p>
<p>Turbulence's optics lit up. “Can you tell us the one about the giant purple griffin?”</p>
<p>Windblade frowned. “I'm afraid I don't know that story.”</p>
<p>“Star told us the story!” Turbulence said, sitting up in her excitement. Realising her mistake she quickly returned to her horizontal position. “Megatron made this stupid giant purple griffin to kill Optimus Prime and it blew up in his face!”</p>
<p>“I see.” Windblade placed her hand on Turbulence's chestplate, relishing the feel of the pulsing spark beneath the thin plating. “Starscream promised me he wouldn't tell you his war stories.”</p>
<p>Turbulence's optics widened as she realised she had just gotten her favourite storyteller into trouble. However, it was Moonshot who came to Starscream's rescue. “They're not real stories.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>He nodded seriously. “Griffins aren't real.”</p>
<p>“Yes they are!” argued Turbulence.</p>
<p>“No they're not.”</p>
<p>“Are too!”</p>
<p>Windblade gently pushed her daughter back down as she tried to sit up and argue with her brother. “What other stories has Starscream told you?”</p>
<p>Moonshot paused thoughtfully before saying, “There was one where Megatron built a remote controlled Optimus Prime and tried to use it to lure the Autobots into a trap, but it kept using the wrong names so they knew it was fake and blew it up. Then there was one where Soundwave opened a nightclub on Earth and used music to control the humans and have them attack the Autobots, but the Autobots destroyed his machine and freed the humans. My favourite is the one where Bumblebee's spark-ghost possessed a bot in the communications hub so he could send Thundercracker love messages.”</p>
<p>“And warn him that there was an alien invasion coming to Earth!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that too.”</p>
<p>It was difficult but somehow Windblade managed to maintain a straight face. “Oh <em>those </em>stories.” She leaned closer to Turbulence to whisper, “You're lucky; Starscream doesn't tell me stories like that.”</p>
<p>“He doesn't?”</p>
<p>“No, he saves his special stories for his special sparklings.”</p>
<p>Turbulence beamed. She loved to be special, just like Starscream.</p>
<p>“Since I don't know any of Starscream's special stories I'll just have to tell you one of my own.” She considered her options before deciding there was one story with a happy ending that she could sanitise enough not to traumatise her sparklings. “This is the story of how I became possessed by a rogue Titan and Starscream swooped in to save me.”</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>“I would have thought you'd take the opportunity to fill their helms with religious drivel.”</p>
<p>Windblade wasn't the least bit surprised that Starscream had decided to eavesdrop on story time. “They get enough of that at the Education Centre. I thought it would be better to tell them something they aren't likely to hear from their instructors.”</p>
<p>Starscream cocked an optic ridge. “Such as?”</p>
<p>Windblade wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him down so that she could whisper in his audial, “That their Star is strong and brave and just a little bit heroic.”</p>
<p>She kissed his faceplate before allowing him to draw back. His optics searched desperately for any sign of insincerity or mockery. Windblade's spark ached at the sight – at the knowledge that after all they had been through Starscream still could not take such compliments at face value.</p>
<p>When he found nothing dishonest in her expression a smile flickered across Starscream's faceplate. He moved in to kiss her, his hands reaching behind to firmly caress her wings. Windblade gasped and squirmed out of the kiss to hiss, “Starscream! Not here!”</p>
<p>“Where then?” Starscream asked as he moved his kisses to her throat cables. “The berth?”</p>
<p>“...Yes,” Windblade decided as groping hands sent electric shocks shooting through her wires.</p>
<p>She felt Starscream's triumphant grin as his hands dropped to her thighs and lifted her bodily off the floor.</p>
<p>“Starscream!”</p>
<p>“Shush!” he chided. “You'll wake the sparklings.”</p>
<p>She glared ineffectively at him. “You'll pay for this.”</p>
<p>“Promises, promises.”</p>
<p>Windblade huffed but couldn't help but be amused, and more than a little excited. A playful Starscream was the best type of Starscream after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Virus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warnings for children getting sick and a virus outbreak in a school.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>VIRUS</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p>The worst part, for Windblade, was that she missed it.</p>
<p>In her defence, she'd had other things on her processor at the time. The final vote on her tax reform bill, a meeting with the Mistress of Flame, a damning media piece on fuel poverty she was still trying to get properly fact-checked. When you ran a planet things like making sure the sparklings were ready for the Education Centre on time were rarely at the top of her priority tree. That was Starscream's job as primary caregiver; a phrase which still caused minor processor errors to those outside their inner circle. For all his selfishness and ruthlessness Starscream was...an adequate caregiver. There were still times when Windblade caught him being highly inappropriate around the little ones, but he'd never put them in real danger. As much as he (loudly and regularly) complained about the sparklings most of it was for show. He cared about their little ones just as much, if not more, than she did.</p>
<p>Which was why Starscream was the first one to realise something was wrong. As Windblade was rushing around their apartment gathering her things and downing her morning fuel, Starscream was stood staring critically at Turbulence. She wasn't refuelling, she wasn't talking, she was just sitting quietly and staring at her untouched energon. Something was definitely not right.</p>
<p>“Goodbye everyone,” Windblade said as she pressed a kiss to the sparklings' helms and one to Starscream's faceplate. “I hope you all have a good day.”</p>
<p>He turned to watch her head to the balcony. He waited until she'd transformed and flown out of sight before moving to loom over Turbulence. She looked up at him with sad, unusually dim optics.</p>
<p>“Are you malfunctioning?” he asked tersely.</p>
<p>At half her normal volume she murmured, “My tank feels funny.”</p>
<p>“Is that because you've been eating rust sticks when you're supposed to be recharging?”</p>
<p>She shook her helm.</p>
<p>Starscream released a frustrated ex-vent. “We're going to take Moonshot to the Education Centre and then we're going to see a medic. If this is a ploy to avoid a test I will not be pleased. I have better things to do than waste my time going to see Flatline.”</p>
<p>She nodded, still looking sad and tired.</p>
<p>The walk to the Education Centre, painfully slow for someone who could fly there in a fifth of the time, was even slower than usual until Starscream lost patience and decided to carry Turbulence. She clung tightly to him and he tried not to notice how unusually warm her frame was.</p>
<p>“Is she broken?” Moonshot asked, half concerned and half curious.</p>
<p>“No,” Starscream replied. “She probably just has a virus. We're going to see a medic after; he'll make her all better.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Moonshot said. “It's weird being able to tell a story without being interrupted.”</p>
<p>Starscream couldn't help but smile at that. His smile died when he arrived at the Education Centre and the instructors were not as sympathetic towards Turbulence's plight.</p>
<p>“She's probably faking,” the obnoxious little kettle decided. “Give her here, I'll set her straight.”</p>
<p>Starscream glared and resisted the urge to kick him. “Are you a medic?”</p>
<p>“No, but I know Turbulence, and she-”</p>
<p>“Is a melodramatic little diva when she scuffs her paint or is in any other way injured. The fact that she is quiet should be a glaring red flag to anyone with a processor. I'm taking her to a medic. If you have a problem with that you can raise it with Windblade.”</p>
<p>He'd stormed off without waiting for a reply. Turbulence had remained worryingly silent.</p>
<p>Starscream had double-timed it to the med-centre and forced his way through reception to find Flatline in the treatment rooms. The former Decepticon had grumbled and griped about Starscream jumping the line, but he'd dealt with enough overly-anxious (and overly-armed in some cases) creators in the last few years that he knew better than to try sending him away. He'd ordered Starscream to put Turbulence down on the berth and begun his examination. It didn't take long for the grumbling to be stopped dead in its tracks.</p>
<p>“Nurse! I need a space clearing in Intensive Care ASAP!”</p>
<p>That was when the panicking started.</p>
<p>“<em>What?!</em> What's wrong with her?! Hey, I'm talking-”</p>
<p>“Starscream,” Flatline said as slowly and calmly as he could, “you did the right thing bringing her here when you did. It looks like Turbulence has a virus, but she doesn't have the right software to counteract it. It's standard software for you and me – but the sparklings weren't created in the same way. I'm putting her in Intensive Care to be safe and to isolate her from anyone else who might not have the right software.” His optics brightened as a thought occurred to him. “Wait, you have two sparklings right?”</p>
<p>Starscream grabbed his arm. “Moonshot.”</p>
<p>“Bring him here, just in case. With any luck we can download the software before he starts exhibiting any symptoms – if he has the virus at all.”</p>
<p>Starscream didn't need to be told twice. He flew as fast as he could to the Education Centre, barely slowing as he raced through the halls to Moonshot's classroom.</p>
<p>The doors opened. The class turned to look at him. Moonshot wasn't among them.</p>
<p>“He's down the hall,” said the instructor. “He started crying uncontrollably a few minutes ago. I sent-”</p>
<p>Starscream didn't wait for him to finish. He kept running until his audials captured the faint sound of his sparkling in distress. He kicked the door open, startling the room's occupants.</p>
<p>“What in the blazing inferno do you think you're-”</p>
<p>“Star!” Moonshot cried, reaching for him imploringly. “I don't feel good!”</p>
<p>Starscream pushed the instructor still attempting to berate him out of his way, picked up his sparkling, and rushed out of the Education Centre without a word. It wasn't until he handed his still sobbing sparkling to a medic and was ordered to wait outside until the assessment was complete that he noticed Windblade was trying to contact him.</p>
<p>He answered the comm with a wry, “Do you want the bad news or the worse news?”</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>After finding enough people to delegate the co-ordination of a response to a public health crisis to, Windblade allowed herself the luxury of collapsing in a chair beside her sparkling's berth. It was lucky, the medics said, that they'd been alerted to the virus when they had or the whole Education Centre might have risked overheating and spark failure. As it was all the sparklings were currently receiving an update to their software centre to prevent further transfer of the virus. Turbulence and Moonshot's classes had been admitted overnight as they had all been infected, although many had not yet started to show symptoms. The two sparklings were in a private room, recharging, watched over by their creators. Flatline had given them the necessary antivirals and was hopeful they could be discharged after a further day's rest and observation.</p>
<p>Even though her sparklings were no longer in danger Windblade had no intention of leaving their side anytime soon. She stroked Turbulence's helm with the hand not held in the sparkling's tight grip. Beside her Starscream was running a soothing palm over Moonshot's wing, his own occasionally twitching and making contact with Windblade's. It was more reassuring than irritating.</p>
<p>“Stop fretting,” Starscream groused without looking at her. “You heard Flatline; they're going to fine.”</p>
<p>“This time,” Windblade muttered.</p>
<p>Starscream twisted in his seat, a frown marring his features. “What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>Windblade sat back in her seat. “I didn't notice. I couldn't tell that Turbulence was ill. Her change in behaviour didn't even register. What if next time I don't notice something until it's too late to get her treatment? What if she gets permanently hurt because I'm not paying attention? What if-”</p>
<p>“It really galls you that I'm the better caretaker,” Starscream said with a wide smirk.</p>
<p>“Excuse me?!”</p>
<p>“Look at you – all wound up because I was the one who realised our sparkling was ill. You were ready to chew me out because I was rude to the instructors but I was actually doing the right thing. You're mad that you were wrong.”</p>
<p>“That is – no! I am not-”</p>
<p>“Windblade, Windblade, Windblade,” Starscream cooed condescendingly. “It's alright. I promise that when you admit I'm superior you'll feel much better.”</p>
<p>“When Turbulence lets go of my hand I'm going to slap you,” she threatened.</p>
<p>“If you think that will make you feel better you can try,” Starscream said pityingly. “Deep down, though, you know it won't. You won't feel better until you acknowledge you are limited. Limited by your inability to rule a planet <em>and</em> micromanage your family. Limited by your need to take responsibility for everything and everyone. Limited by your belief you can have your rust cake and eat it. You can't bring about a new Golden Age of Cybertron <em>and </em>be creator of the year. Something has to give. Better it's this than allowing some warmongering psychopath to steal your crown.”</p>
<p>For a long moment Windblade was silent as she digested Starscream's words.</p>
<p>“You know, even when you're trying to be supportive you're an aft.”</p>
<p>Starscream continued to smirk as he returned his attention to Moonshot. Windblade rolled her optics and turned back to Turbulence.</p>
<p>After a moment of silence Starscream extended his leg, nudging her ankle-strut. With a smile she nudged him back. They remained linked by that small contact until the position became too uncomfortable. As they shifted their wings connected and remained together, causing Windblade to smile.</p>
<p>“Thank you Starscream. You are a good caretaker,” Windblade muttered.</p>
<p>His wings twitched in acknowledgement, but for once Starscream was blissfully silent.</p>
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